


Through a Glass Darkly

by terajk



Category: The Craft (1996)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:56:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terajk/pseuds/terajk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She will be the most powerful witch in the world. One day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through a Glass Darkly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlerobbergirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlerobbergirl/gifts).



The girls at school make her sound so…so _stupid,_ giggling behind their hands and squealing at the shadows of stray curtains. Like how all the teachers and the principal make her mom sound stupid. The way they smirk or look away when she comes to pick her up from school, as if they’re all in on some joke that isn’t really all that funny.

Her mother is not a joke. And neither is this. Neither is _she._

Even though it’s early she’s in bed, because sleep is all you can do when the electricity’s out and you wish Ray would just disappear. 

No. No, it isn’t. It isn’t the only thing you can do _at all._

She gets up, feels her way to the bathroom (no biggie; she’s done it a million times), to the only mirror in the house.

The girls at school say that Nancy looks like a witch—the one from that movie that comes on HBO every Halloween that she once watched through the neighbors’ window just to see what the fuss was about. 

Nancy doesn’t see the resemblance. The witch in the movie was clumsy and not any good at magic; Nancy will be the most powerful witch in the world. One day, she’ll be strong enough to save her mom from Ray and the stupid people at school and give her a jukebox that only plays Connie Francis records, like she wants.

 _One_ day. 

For now she concentrates on her breathing, not on her reflection in the mirror. Then she puts the power, the magic, into the words. Because if Nancy knows anything about magic, it’s that the words themselves aren’t nearly as important as the state of mind they unlock.

_Bloody Mary._

_Bloody Mary._

_Bloody Mary._

The witch makes the magic, and she will be the greatest witch of all.

In her peripheral vision a pale, clawlike hand reaches out for her. 

But Nancy grabs it first.


End file.
